


he took my heart (I think he took my soul)

by reddieforlove



Series: Closer [1]
Category: IT (2017)
Genre: 5/7 of the losers are in a band, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon Divergence, Fluff, Language, M/M, Musicians, Porn With Plot, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 03:11:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13262394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reddieforlove/pseuds/reddieforlove
Summary: All Eddie wants to do is go to a small concert in a dive bar with his friend. He never planned on getting swept away by the lead singer of the very band that he went to see.





	he took my heart (I think he took my soul)

**Author's Note:**

> This is honestly a monster that took me about a week to write, even if it doesn't seem that way. I am so sorry if characterization is off. I tried my best but the situation I came up with forced the characters to adjust a little in my mind. I really did want to keep them as close as possible.
> 
> I haven't written smut for Reddie before now so I hope it wasn't too terrible. It's stated in the tags and pretty blatantly stated in the fic but it bears repeating that these characters are aged up.
> 
> Fic and Series Title: Closer - Kings of Leon
> 
> Inspiration Songs:
> 
> 1\. **Closer** \- Kings of Leon  
>  2\. **God Is In the Radio** \- Queens of the Stone Age  
>  3\. **Howlin’ For You** \- The Black Keys  
>  4\. **Spinning Into Place** \- Younger Brother  
>  5\. **Spread Your Love** \- Black Rebel Motorcycle Club  
>  6\. **Fire** \- Barns Courtney  
>  7\. **Your Touch** \- The Black Keys  
>  8\. **Lights Out** \- Royal Blood  
>  9\. **Breathe** \- Fleurie  
>  10\. **Amen Omen** \- Ben Harper

“This is the place?”

If Eddie’s voice held a little skepticism, who could blame him? When Ben told him that they were going to a concert for one of the current top-selling bands in the country, Eddie expected… well he expected a venue. Not a dive bar that couldn’t possibly fit more than fifty or so people.

“Isn’t it great?” Ben said with a grin.

“I think you have the wrong address,” Eddie said.

Ben shook his head, surging forward. Eddie felt as though he had no choice but to follow him, though every instinct drilled into him by his mother’s shrill voice told him to run the other way.

“It’s not actually a concert, more like a gig,” Ben said.

That didn’t sound right. None of this made any sense. Eddie wondered if this was just some elaborate trick. Ben would be fairly downtrodden if it was. He’d been nursing a distant crush on one of the band members since they broke into the music scene last year. Eddie only agreed to come along in the hopes that seeing her play may finally relieve him from hearing his friend wax poetic about her hair all the time.

“Aren’t they nominated for a Grammy?”

“Two. Best New Artist and Best Alternative Music Album,” Ben confirmed.

Eddie understood even less now. He barely heard Ben chatting away about how the lead singer apparently owed the owner of this bar a favor and agreed to do the gig if it stayed invite only and no one posted about it on social media. Eddie knew that several of the band members were from this area so it made a little bit of sense. But he wasn’t entirely sure how Ben managed to secure an invite. His thoughts were chased away when he was overwhelmed with the smell of alcohol, sweat, and smoke.

It was nearly enough to send him running until he saw the eager anticipation on Ben’s face as he looked at the small platform set up in the corner with instruments ready to be played. Eddie knew that he could handle a little bit of discomfort for his friend, even if it meant he scrubbed his skin raw in the shower later. They managed to push their way through the crowd to the bar and Eddie ordered a simple vodka water with lime, not willing to spend more time in the scramble of people wanting to get a drink than he had to. Drinks in hand, Eddie followed Ben to a space halfway up to the stage and there they stood until a door to the back room opened and the people around them shouted in approval.

The surreal nature of the entire thing didn’t really go away when he saw the members of the band file out and onto the stage. Eddie vaguely recognized their faces and could have named them if he cared enough to do so. There was no denying that they were attractive. The five of them barely fit on the stage but they made it work, somehow. Eddie’s eyes were drawn to the lead singer, who wore a threadbare grey beanie on his head with a few dark curls escaping. His dark jeans were ripped and frayed and the flannel shirt he wore over had definitely seen better days. Eddie couldn’t tell the color of his eyes from where he stood but he could see his high cheekbones flushed from what had to be adrenaline and his pink lips lifted into a smile.

“What’s up fuckers?” he shouted into the microphone.

It was entirely unnecessary, in Eddie’s opinion. The bar was small enough that they could have heard him without the yelling. But the crowd around him disagreed, yelling back at him as the other band members messed around with their instruments. The lead singer had a guitar slung around his neck but he wasn’t doing much with it yet.

“Do us a favor, would ya?” he said, glancing around the dim room.

“I love you, Richie!” someone shouted out.

Richie grinned, throwing a wink out in the direction where it came from before continuing.

“Put away your goddamn phones, grab a beer, scream out some shitty lyrics with us, and have a good fucking time!”

Eddie barely had time to roll his eyes before the music began. He recognized the opening chords. At the cafe where he worked, closing time meant switching from the calm piano tones to the local radio station. The other employees loved to sing alone while he did what was required of him, occasionally nodding along or humming when he happened to know the song. The Losers came on more often than not and yet the husky singing voice that he often heard from the crackling speakers in the ceiling was nothing compared to what Richie could do live. HIs annoyance at the pressing crowd and overwhelming smell seemed to fade away as Eddie let himself simply enjoy the music. They were good, there was no doubt about that.

He couldn’t quite tear his eyes away from the lead singer, his long fingers strumming the guitar strings, his lips moving along with the lyrics he sang, his eyes closing every once in a while and a peaceful look falling over his face as if his home was the stage and he couldn’t have been happier anywhere else. Eddie found himself drawn in, even as Richie made filthy jokes between sets and lit up a cigarette as the auburn-haired man on the keyboard took over welcoming them all to the show. The music may not have been what he usually enjoyed but live music was live music and it was nearly impossible not to enjoy it. His vodka water remained almost forgotten in his hands until he heard Richie announced that they were winding down and realized that setting up a tab at the bar was completely unnecessary. Ben hadn’t drank much of his beer either.

“Gonna go close out!” Eddie shouted over the music, tearing his eyes away from the charismatic lead singer as he turned towards his friend.

“Want me to-”

He shook his head, cutting Ben off.

“Enjoy the view,” he said, knowing that the flush in his friend’s cheeks came from being so near to Beverly Marsh.

Eddie pushed his way through the crowd to the bar, barely managing to get the bartender’s attention so that he could get his card out. Pulling his phone out to check the time was instinctive. How two hours had gone by so quickly was beyond him.

“Sign this,” the bartender instructed him, sliding a receipt across the counter along with Eddie’s card.

Setting down his phone, Eddie pulled the pen closer to him before scribbling out his signature and pocketing his card.

“Thanks,” he said, though the bartender was already long gone to serve the customers still ordering drinks.

Turning away, he remained standing where he was to watch the rest of the last song. It wasn’t until the band was climbing off the stage and receiving high fives from all around that he saw Ben walking towards him.

“We can beat the rush if we go now,” he said.

Eddie nodded, leading the way towards the door. The air was significantly cooler than it had been when they walked into the bar. Eddie regretted not wearing more than a cardigan over a t-shirt. It wasn’t until they were halfway back to the car where they parked it several blocks away that he reached for his phone and didn’t find it in any of his pockets.

“Shit,” Eddie sighed, suddenly remembering that he’d put it on the bar and never picked it up. “My phone’s back there.”

Ben stopped short before turning around.

“We’re not that far,” he said.

“You can go ahead to the car,” Eddie offered.

He shook his head, already walking back in the direction of the bar.

“Don’t mind waiting for you.”

Ben seemed to mean it, chattering about how great the show was as they walked. Eddie just wanted a place to warm up, clasping his hands in front of his mouth to blow in them every once in a while.

“I think I saw Richie looking at you at one point.”

That certainly did the trick. Eddie’s cheeks immediately warmed for reasons beyond his understanding. Ben had said the words casually but they stuck out pretty significantly to Eddie. He didn’t really want to think about why.

“What?” he scoffed.

“You can never tell for sure,” Ben said with a shrug. “But when you went to close the tab, I think he may have watched you for a few seconds.”

Eddie dismissed it as a trick of the light almost immediately. There was no way that Richie Tozier, who had the entire place eating out of the palm of his hand, would have spared even the smallest glance for someone like Eddie. Ben had always been a romantic, that was it. Eddie had himself thoroughly convinced that it hadn’t happened by the time they reached the bar, where the patrons were filtering out in groups. Last call must have been announced for them to be leaving so quickly. Ben chose to linger outside as he walked through the door, relieved to see that it was almost empty.

Then his heart skipped a little bit in his chest because there at the other end of the room was definitely the band, all laughing as they packed up their equipment. Eddie forced himself to move as quietly and slowly as possible, desperate to go unnoticed as he spotted his phone thankfully still sitting right where he left it. He was so surprised that it hadn’t been stolen that he didn’t notice when one head lifted, spotting him where he was clasping the phone to his chest and thanking whatever deity might be listening that he didn’t have to pay for another. He definitely couldn’t afford it between bills and student loans.

“Hey cutie.”

Eddie nearly jumped out of his skin, whirling around. As much as he wished he was wrong, there was no mistaking the voice that called out to him even though it was more hoarse than it had been an hour or two ago. He’d been hearing it at the microphone all night.

“Shit, you’re adorable,” Richie said from where he was suddenly leaning against the bar watching him. “Where the fuck have you been all my life?”

Eddie couldn’t do much more than stare, his heart picking up pace in his chest as his stomach fluttered nervously and his mouth suddenly went dry. This definitely was not what he expected.

“Ignore him,” a feminine voice said from across the room and Eddie knew without looking that it was Beverly.

“We all do,” the curly-haired drummer said, shaking his head.

“You woundeth me, Stan the Man,” Richie said over his shoulder, pressing a hand over his heart as he spoke in a terrible British accent. “I demand recompense for my troubles. Worry not, a kiss will do just-”

“Beep beep, Richie,” they keyboardist, Bill something, called out.

Eddie watched all of this transpire with his eyes wide and his phone still held tight in his hands. He was just considering turning back for the door when Richie eyes flitted back to him. Now that he was off the stage and the lighting in the bar was turned up, Eddie could see that he had dark eyes and freckles dusted across his nose and cheeks.

“We were about to head back to our hotel and watch some shitty movies on pay-per-view,” Richie said, looking him up and down as he spoke. “You wanna come, cutie?”

If that was a proposition, it was the strangest one that he ever heard.

“Eddie,” he said without thinking.

“Hmm?

“My name,” Eddie said, the words coming out with more bite than he intended. “It’s Eddie, not cutie.”

Richie looked beyond pleased at his words.

“Don’t mind if I call you both,” he said.

“I do, actually,” Eddie said.

He couldn’t help but feel wary of this entire situation. Why, when he’d just been in a bar full of people who were probably ready and willing to play the part of groupie for a night, was Richie standing here talking to him?

“Well?” Richie said, tearing him from his thoughts.

“What?” Eddie said, frowning slightly.

“You in?”

He still didn’t know what to say.

“I just came to get my phone,” Eddie said, holding it up a little tighter. “I’m here with someone.”

Richie’s eyebrow ticked up just slightly.

“My friend,” he clarified, kicking himself for doing it as soon as the words were out.

There was very little chance that he cared who Ben was to him. If he turned around and walked out right now, they probably wouldn’t even notice. Judging by his attitude during the show, flirting was something that came as second nature to Richie Tozier.

“Bring them too,” someone else piped up and Eddie glanced over to see that it was Beverly Marsh.

It seemed that the entire band was at least somewhat paying attention to his interaction with Richie. Eddie hated that his cheeks flushed as he realized just how on the spot he was right now.

“Whatcha got to lose, Eds?” Richie asked.

“My dignity,” Eddie said bluntly, looking back at him. “And that’s not my name.”

Richie grinned at him.

“Dignity is a state of mind,“ he said, sounding incredibly convincing. “Live a little.”

Eddie looked from him to the rest of the band and back, worrying at his bottom lip with his teeth. This definitely wasn’t something that happened every day and he would probably be an idiot to turn down the chance. Eddie just wasn’t sure what, if anything, was expected of him in return. As he thought about it deeply, it occurred to him that he wasn’t sure if he could miss an opportunity to see Ben blushing his way through a conversation with Beverly.

“Fine,” he said, feeling a burst of anticipation in his chest as he spoke. “I’m in.”

“Perfect,” Richie said, looking incredibly satisfied with himself.

As Eddie returned his gaze, he couldn’t help but wonder if that was _want_ he saw in Richie’s dark eyes. It seemed impossible, but apparently he was going to spend time in a hotel room with some famous people. Impossible as a word didn’t really mean anything right now.

* * *

When Eddie told Ben what was going on, he thought for a minute that he was going to have to peel his friend off of the concrete. Ten minutes later, after all the equipment had been loaded up, they found themselves in a black tour bus. Ben was looking on with thinly veiled awe in his eyes, as if he couldn’t quite believe that he wasn’t dreaming, while Beverly pointed out the different facets of their small kitchen. Eddie couldn’t blame him. Even though he was just sitting on a leather couch watching Richie sit down across from him and sweep the beanie off of his dark, sweaty curls, it was tempting to pinch himself.

“You smell horrible,” Stan said, passing by Richie with a wrinkled nose.

“Want a hug?” Richie asked.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

Eddie watched Mike squeeze Stan’s hand when he sat next to him on another couch that lined the walls of the bus, whispering something to him in a low voice. Bill was in the back of the bus sitting alone at a small table, typing away on a computer.

“He’s emailing his brother,” Richie said, noticing Eddie’s curious look. “He does it after every show.”

“What do you do?” Eddie asked.

Richie’s eyes were filled with amusement when he looked up.

“I don’t kiss and tell, cutie,” he said.

That pretty much confirmed it in Eddie’s head.

“You invited me just to get into my pants, didn’t you?” he asked bluntly, feeling a little bit angry at himself for falling in the trap. “I was just easy bait when I walked back in the bar.”

Richie leaned in, putting his elbows on his knees.

“No,” he said, and Eddie was about to call out the lie when he spoke again. “You caught my eye as soon as I walked on that stage.”

Eddie stared at him skeptically.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I’ve never seen anyone wear a goddamn cardigan to a dive bar, that’s why,” Richie said, winking at him before standing up.

Eddie watched as he walked back to the kitchen, tossing a teasing comment Beverly’s way that earned a smack to his arm as he bent over the small fridge to pull out a water bottle. It didn’t take them much longer to reach the hotel and Eddie was entirely unsurprised when they piled off and the manager was waiting for the band at the door with a smile pasted on his face. He assured them that they had the best rooms in the place. Mike seemed to be the only one fully listening as Richie stole a handful of mints from a bowl by the reception desk and Stan muttered something to Bill and Beverly that made them both laugh.

“This is surreal,” Ben said where he stood next to Eddie. “How did you make this happen again?”

“I wore a cardigan, apparently,” Eddie said dryly, earning a confused look from his friend when he didn’t bother to explain further.

Fifteen minutes later, they were spread around Beverly’s hotel suite. Well, everyone except Richie, who was showering in his own room, and Eddie, who was hovering by the window staring out at the lights of the city. He didn’t like hotel rooms, even ones as nice as this one. He could never quite ignore the fact that thousands of people slept and bathed and ate there, spreading their germs all over the place. It made him reluctant to sit or lie on any surface.

“Richie always takes a shower after we play,” Beverly said, piling her hair in a bun atop her head.

“What, uh… what do you like to do… after?” Ben asked her.

Eddie was right before. It was incredibly amusing to watch his friend around Beverly. Just the flush in his cheeks alone made it worth it. He just hoped that he wasn’t acting just as flustered with Richie.

“Sometimes I scroll through twitter and stalk people’s pictures from our concert,” Beverly said, giving Ben her full attention. “But I don’t think anyone posted about us tonight.”

“Was it weird, playing like that?” Eddie asked, turning to face the band members that were there.

Beverly was the one who answered first, shaking her head as she crossed over to hand him a bottle of water from the fridge.

“It reminded me of when we just started out,” she said.

Mike nodded in agreement, a smile on his face.

“We had nothing but our second-hand instruments and enough money to get Mike's shitty van to the next gig,” he added.

“I miss it sometimes,” Bill confessed.

The others all agreed quietly.

“It was just us and the music,” Stan said.

Eddie felt suddenly that he was seeing past their famous names. It made his nerves settle a little when he reminded himself that they were just people, all the same age as him with a lot of pressure on their shoulders. But then his stomach was fluttering again when Richie walked in with damp curls grazing the collar of his grey henley, nothing but fuzzy socks on his feet, and two six packs of beer. But what stood out the most were the glasses on his face, thick-framed and incredibly fitting. Eddie couldn’t help but wonder why he bothered with contacts when he looked this good in glasses. It was unfair.

“Got the goods,” Richie said, setting the beer on a table.

“Richie gets really snuggly after we perform with pretty much anyone who is in reach,” Beverly warned Eddie quietly as if she just remembered. “It’s how he winds down. Let me know if you want a rescue and I’ll distract him.”

Eddie wondered why she was warning him, as if it was obvious that he would be on the receiving end of Richie’s cuddling. He didn’t get the chance to ask before she was walking away to sit next to Ben on the couch.

“Come sit with us, Eds,” Richie said as he collapsed on the ground with two beers in hand, holding one out to Eddie in offering.

“Say my actual name,” Eddie challenged him without thinking.

“Eddie, you sexy thing, would you please come sit with us?” he said, fluttering his lashes dramatically.

With a roll of his eyes, Eddie crossed the room and cautiously lowered himself onto the ground before taking the beer, for some reason feeling better about the carpet than he did any of the couches or beds. Stan claimed loudly that it was his turn to pick the movie, wrestling the remote from Bill and choosing the newest Star Trek movie before anyone could argue. Eddie was grateful for the distraction, especially with Beverly’s warning in the back of his mind. Part of him was wondering whether Richie was going to reach for him and another part of him was wondering why he hadn’t already.

He found himself sitting so stiffly that his muscles started to ache by the time they were halfway through the movie. Once he finished his beer, Eddie excused himself to the bathroom and washed his hands a few times to calm himself, taking deep breaths as he avoided looking in the mirror. None of this felt real, even now. What the hell was he doing there? Why had he let himself be pulled into this? Richie’s smiling face, his dark eyes wicked and amused, floated through his mind as if he really needed an answer to his question.

By the time he walked back out, several minutes had passed and he was on the receiving end of a questioning look from Ben, who was sitting between Beverly and Mike on the couch. Eddie shook his head once, considering whether he should sit a little further away from Richie in an effort to stop worrying so much about Beverly’s words. Before he could make up his mind, Richie’s hand lifted and his fingers caught Eddie’s, Looking down with wide eyes, he saw Richie looking up at him instead of at the television.

“C’mere, cutie,” he said quietly, tugging at his hand gently.

Eddie didn’t really know what he wanted but he couldn’t bring himself to argue, slowly lowering himself to his knees. Richie’s intent became clear when his other hand reached out and pulled Eddie closer to him. Once he was done situating him, Eddie was sitting between his lazily splayed legs and Richie was easing him to sit with his back against the other man’s chest. He was beginning to understand what Beverly meant, even though this just felt like the tip of the iceberg.

“This okay?” Richie asked, whispering in his ear and nearly making him shiver. “You were sitting so stiff over there, I thought you might have an aneurism.”

He flushed, realizing that he hadn’t been quite as inconspicuous as he thought.

“It’s okay,” Eddie said, slowly relaxing against him.

Richie hummed, wrapping a loose arm around Eddie’s waist as he played with the lid to his beer in his other hand. It was more comfortable than Eddie could have expected, especially when Richie’s chin settled on his shoulder and they began watching the movie. Eddie’s heart was still beating quickly in his chest as he smelled the lingering soap from Richie’s shower and felt his warmth seeping through his shirt and cardigan. Glancing at Richie out of the corner of his eye, he couldn’t help but admire his profile. Eddie couldn’t have explained the plot of the movie by now if he tried. Everything was just Richie, as far as he was concerned, no matter how pathetic it sounded.

“You should wear glasses more,” Eddie said before he could stop himself, keeping his voice hushed.

Richie looked over at him, raising one eyebrow.

“You look good,” Eddie mumbled, his cheeks warming.

“You calling me pretty, Eds?”

“You need hearing aids, Richie?” he shot back.

Richie grinned at him.

“I think you are,” he said, reaching up to pinch Eddie’s cheek lightly, “That’s why you’re blushing.”

“Like you need the ego boost,” Eddie said, slapping his hand away before looking up at the TV.

“What you need is to get a room,” Stan muttered on the couch.

Bill huffed out a laugh as Beverly giggled. Eddie grew still in Richie’s arms, wondering briefly what the others thought about this. Were they judging him? Richie hushed him quietly, brushing his nose over Eddie’s temple. It was embarrassing how easily it relaxed him again and Eddie was able to sit back and pretend to watch the movie while wondering what it would feel like to run his hands through the inky curls that he could feel brushing the side of his head. The movie ended sooner than he expected and Beverly was quick to pick another. Eddie didn’t bother to pay attention to the title as Richie begged for someone to bring him another beer.

“I’m too comfortable here,” he said, pulling Eddie closer when Bill reminded him that he had legs.

Eddie didn’t bother to feel embarrassed this time, watching as Mike crossed the room all while Richie hailed him as a hero, a king, a true god among men.

“Anything for you, Eddie?” Mike asked once Richie had a beer in hand.

He shook his head, thanking him anyway. The movie had Matt Damon in it and Eddie only paid half attention it, just like the last. Before he could talk himself out of it, he lifted Richie’s arm from where it laid over his waist and turned his hand over to look down at it. It wasn’t as callused as Eddie expected it to be. The black polish on his nails was chipped. Eddie traced the tip of his finger over the lines on his palm, finding a small raised spot near his thumb that must have been a scar.

Richie didn’t stop him, though his hand twitched every once in a while as if Eddie’s soft touch hit a sensitive spot. It was only when he began tracing the length of Richie’s fingers that he felt the softest brush of lips over the shell of his ear. It was an incredibly sensitive spot, which Eddie guessed was the point. His breath hitched in his throat and he prayed that none of the others noticed. Another kiss a little beneath the first caused him to turn his head just enough to where he could whisper to Richie quieter than before.

“Want me to stop?”

Richie hummed out a no.

“Feels nice,” he murmured.

Looking down again, Eddie noticed the slightest bit of black peeking out from Richie’s pushed up sleeves. Tugging it up a little more, he traced the small spot of ink while wondering how bad it hurt. It was a scrawled out date from two years ago that had to have been significant. Part of Eddie wanted to know if Richie had any other tattoos. He felt like he already knew the answer.

“You have any?” Richie asked as if he could sense Eddie’s line of thought.

He shook his head, still staring at the numbers.

“Don’t like needles,” Eddie admitted.

It hadn’t always been that way. He got so many shots when he was young that he pretty much had to stop panicking every time he saw one out of necessity. Now, though, he couldn’t see one without thinking of the countless hospital visits. The bottles of pills. His mother screaming at him not to leave her alone, that she would never forgive him if he walked out that door, that his sexuality was just a sickness that they could cure if he just stayed with her. The mere thought of it made his stomach churn and he shuddered in Richie’s arms involuntarily.

“You okay?” Richie asked.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, though his voice sounded smaller than before.

He could tell that Richie was going to say something else but Beverly spoke out before he could.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Richie and Eddie both looked around to see a guilty-looking Stan, Mike, and Bill all in the middle of standing up.

“I sat through your damn movie,” she said, looking at Stan accusingly.

“Sorry Bev,” Mike said, smiling sheepishly.

“We’re tired, you know?” Bill added.

She scoffed, clearly not buying it.

“Go fuck yourselves,” Beverly said, though there was no real heat to her words.

“We plan on it,” Stan said with a smirk.

She flipped him off as they walked to the door but laughed once they were gone. Eddie stared after them, wondering how the tabloids hadn’t gotten ahold of that particular piece of gossip. They certainly weren’t going to hear it from him and Ben was trustworthy too. But he couldn’t help but wonder why, if it was a secret like he suspected, they were allowed to see it happen. He didn’t notice the silent exchange happening between Beverly and Richie until she spoke again.

“You might as well go,” she said, waving them off.

“What?” Eddie said, sitting up and dropping Richie’s hand.

“You’re exuding so much sexual tension that it’s gonna get hard to breathe pretty soon,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips. “Don’t worry, I think Ben and I can amuse ourselves.”

Eddie glanced towards Ben, who was nodding to confirm that he was just fine being alone with her. Then Eddie looked at Richie, who was staring back at him with a question in his eyes.

“She’s your wingwoman, isn’t she?” he asked.

Richie snorted and Beverly smiled wider.

“We all take on the role sometimes,” she said.

“They can get over it and we’ll stay, if you want,” Richie offered.

Eddie considered it for a moment before pushing himself up to stand, straightening out his sweater.

“I’d hate to suffocate them,” he said dryly, holding a hand out to Richie.

The smile he received in return was definitely worth it as he pulled Richie to his feet. They didn’t take long to leave and Eddie glanced back at a very happy-looking Ben, who mouthed a thank you his way, before stepping out into the hallway with Richie. His stomach was filled with nerves again, especially when they stepped into an identical but empty room. At a loss of what else to do, Eddie wandered into the bedroom without really thinking. Looking purposefully away from the big bed, he couldn’t help but stare when his eyes fell on a guitar case propped against the wall near a chair.

“How many do you have?” he asked as Richie followed him into the room.

“Three,” he answered, sitting on the bed with his eyes on Eddie. “I always keep one around in case inspiration strikes. That one’s acoustic. It’s what I learned first.”

“Did you take lessons?” Eddie asked, turning around to look at him.

Richie shook his head.

“Couldn’t afford them after I bought the guitar,” he said, sounding as though he wasn’t bothered to talk about it. “Taught myself, mostly. Looked up a few videos online but they didn’t do much for me.”

“Well I think it’s fair to say that you did a good job,” Eddie said.

Richie’s eyes shone when he smiled. Eddie liked that. Then he spoke. Eddie liked that less.

“Funny, that’s what your mom said to me last night when I-”

“Holy shit, a mom joke? Really? Are you twelve?” Eddie demanded.

Richie simply laughed, clearly amused by himself.

“It’s a classic,” he said.

“It’s immature,” Eddie fired back.

Richie grinned up at him and it was really hard not to return the smile. Eddie had to go so far as to bite the inside of his cheek as he glanced away. Then Richie’s hand was tugging on his and Eddie was letting it happen, taking several steps closer with his heart thundering in his chest.

“This damn sweater,” Richie said with a shake of his head.

“It’s my favorite,” Eddie said defensively.

“It’s cute,” he said, brushing his thumb over the material. “Cute, cute, _cute_.”

Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes before lifting his hand, tugging at one of the curls at the side of Richie’s head. His hair was soft but that didn’t catch his attention near as much as the black stud in his ear. Brushing his hair out of the way, Eddie touched the tip of his finger to the smooth earring.

“Which hurts worse? Getting a piercing or a tattoo?” he asked, trying not to overthink any of this.

“Apples and oranges, Eds,” Richie said, tossing his hair back to show that he had piercings in same place in both ears as well as silver ring in the cartilage at the top of one ear that he pointed to. “This one took the longest to heal. Kept catching it on everything too. Hurt like a bitch every time I got dressed or did anything with my hair.”

“How many piercings do you have?” Eddie asked, counting three in his ears.

“Four,” Richie said.

The fourth wasn’t visible and Eddie wasn’t about to ask where it was.

“Tell me something about you,” Richie said.

Eddie blinked at him in surprise. It was strange for someone who seemed to have such a rich life full of screaming fans, sold out concerts, and Grammy award nominations to ask him about himself. Comparatively, his life was as boring microwave instructions.

“I, uh… I’m from Maine,” he said dumbly.

Richie’s lips twitched up into a smirk.

“I figured that,” he said.

“Okay,” Eddie nodded, thinking it through. “I’m halfway through finishing an online business degree.”

Part of him expected the raised eyebrows and doubtful look that he got sometimes whenever he alluded to his education. Some people asked what it was like, pursuing college online. Others got a little more condescending, asking if he ever planned on going to a _real_ school. He always had to keep himself from biting back that since he had to work a full time job with the occasional overtime hours just to keep himself fed, clothed, and housed, it was better for him to go the online route. Not that they would care. But Richie simply nodded, looking as though he was filing the information away. It didn’t seem like he was going to say anything else so Eddie spoke again, changing the subject.

“How many tattoos do you have?”

“Three, for now.”

“Which of those hurt more?” Eddie asked.

“Ribs,” Richie said without even thinking.

Eddie couldn’t help but grimace, his hand twitching towards his own ribs. Nothing could really tempt him to get a tattoo, much less in such a sensitive place.

“Wanna see?”

His eyes sprung up to meet Richie’s but before he could help himself, he was nodding. Richie didn’t look uncomfortable at all - Eddie was seriously wondering if that emotion was even possible for him - seizing the hem of his shirt to tug it up to his chest.

“Lyrics,” Richie said, gesturing to the neat writing printed just below his heart. “The first song we ever wrote together.”

Eddie’s eyes traced the familiar words and he realized that it was a song they’d sung that very night. Then he caught sight of Richie’s fourth piercing, a ring through his nipple, and felt strangely flustered, pained, and somewhat aroused all at once.

“That _had_ to hurt the most,” he said.

Richie’s low, husky laugh made him feel even warmer and Eddie suddenly realized just how close he’d gotten.

“I rate all my pain against the time I dislocated my shoulder and broke my ankle when I was fourteen. So far nothing has quite reached that level of agony.”

“What were you doing?” Eddie asked.

“Trying to prove that I could skateboard off my roof without hurting myself,” Richie said, pulling his shirt back down.

“You failed, then.”

“Yeah but the video was fucking awesome,” Richie said with a proud smile.

“You’re insane,” Eddie informed him, moving away to sit on the bed beside him. “And maybe a little bit of an idiot.”

“No argument there,” Richie told him. “What do you want to do when you finish your degree?”

He thought about it for a moment before shrugging his shoulders.

“I have no idea,” Eddie said.

What he didn’t say was that it was more about getting the degree than what he would actually do with it. One of the last things his mother ever shouted to his face was that he wouldn’t go anywhere or do anything without her helping him. They kept in contact with weekly tense phone calls but he hadn’t gone back home since that particular fight.

“So where do you live?” Eddie asked.

“You saw it already,” Richie said, flopping back onto the bed.

That was a confusing answer. Eddie thought about it for a moment before kicking off his shoes and turning around to face him, crossing his legs beneath him.

“The bus?” he said.

Richie nodded, pushing up on his elbows to look at him.

“Better than nothing.”

Eddie didn’t really know what to say to that.

“You’re telling me that you have a top selling album with two songs in the top forty and you don’t have a house or an apartment?”

Richie didn’t look offended by the question.

“Roots are overrated, Eds. I’ve been on the road with the other Losers since we were eighteen. My home isn’t a place. It’s them.”

While it sounded insane at first, it made complete sense once Eddie let it sink in. He got more of a family vibe from the band than anything else, the relationship between Bill, Mike, and Stan notwithstanding. The bus felt well-lived during the few minutes he’d spent in it. He may not have quite understood it, but he could see how it worked for them.

“What kinda place do you live in?” Richie asked.

“A studio apartment near the cafe where I work,” Eddie answered.

“Sounds as cute as you,” he said with a smile.

Eddie couldn’t help but roll his eyes, wondering how many times Richie could manage to call him cute in one night. It confused him a little bit. If Richie was so free with his affections after concerts, wouldn’t he want someone around who wasn’t just cute?

“Why did you play that gig tonight? You could have sold out way bigger venues in Portland,” Eddie said, pushing away the thoughts.

Richie looked surprised by the question but didn’t refuse to answer it.

“When I was fifteen, the owner of that bar gave me a job sweeping floors and wiping tables after last call,” he said.

“You worked in a bar when you were fifteen?” Eddie said, raising his eyebrows

Richie nodded, looking amused at his reaction.

“No one else wanted to hire a foulmouthed kid with ripped jeans and a juvenile record,” he said and Eddie was momentarily stunned by his brutal honesty. “But I was living in Bill’s parents’ basement and felt like I at least needed to give them something in return. So the owner gave me work and even let us play our first gig without ever hearing us. I promised myself that I’d pay back the favor one day.”

Eddie let the words all sink in before speaking.

“That’s... really good of you,” he said.

For the first time, there was a little bit of color rising in Richie’s cheeks.

“Yeah well I think I got the better end of the deal,” he said dismissively.

“Why  is that?” Eddie asked.

“Well I’m the one sitting here with you, aren’t I?”

Eddie stared at him with wide eyes for a few moments before letting out a soft laugh, shaking his head.

“What?”

“I just can’t get a read on you,” he admitted.

“Really?” Richie said, frowning just a little bit. “Here I thought I’ve been a pretty open book.”

“Like you haven’t been flirting with everyone all night,” Eddie scoffed.

Suddenly Richie was sitting up again, delving his fingers into Eddie’s hair before tugging him forward. Their lips pressed together gently, almost tentatively, at first. Then Richie was moving closer and his fingers gripped his hair a little tighter and Eddie found himself straddling his lap, gripping his shoulders as they kissed with more fervor with every passing second. Then they were breaking away, breathing heavily and staring at each other. Richie’s lips were even redder than before and his pupils were blown behind his slightly fogged glasses. Eddie was certain that he didn’t look much different.

“See?” Richie said, his voice a little rougher than before. “Open book.”

“I’ve never done this before,” Eddie blurted out, still feeling breathless.

Richie’s eyes widened and he leaned away a little bit without displacing Eddie from his lap.

“Well fucking hell, Eds. If I knew that I’d have gotten some champagne and rose petals or some shit.”

Eddie realized that his words were misleading and quickly shook his head.

“No, that’s not what I meant. I’ve done _it_ before but… not like this.”

Relief flitted across Richie’s face and he visibly relaxed, his hands running up Eddie’s thighs to rest on his hips.

“We’re not doing anything if you don’t want-”

Eddie shook his head, cutting him off as he ran his fingers through Richie’s hair.

“I want,” he said, bringing their faces closer.

Richie’s eyes flashed with desire and he ducked his head before Eddie could kiss him, running his lips over the column of his throat before nipping at his pulse point. Eddie couldn’t help but rock his hips, dragging a groan out of Richie’s mouth.

“Want,” Eddie panted, heat pooling in his lower belly as Richie kissed that same spot behind his ear and scraped his teeth over his earlobe. “Want more, Richie. Please.”

That was all that it took for Richie to slant his lips over Eddie’s, kissing him with desperate desire that had him trembling as he responded with equal passion. He barely noticed when Richie’s hands shoved the cardigan from his shoulders, tossing it across the room. He was starting to understand why Beverly wanted to kick them out. The air was nearly stifling with the tension and heat that built and built and built the longer they kissed. Eddie pulled away only long enough to tug Richie’s shirt over his head, humming in satisfaction when his hands were met with warm, smooth skin.

There were freckles on Richie’s shoulders too and Eddie found it impossible to resist kissing them, feeling strangely driven by instinct where most of his previous sexual experiences were mostly passive on his end. Then he spotted Richie’s third tattoo, an artistic design that twisted around the majority of his left bicep. He traced the lines and swirls with his finger, wondering if Richie had it done all at once or in stages. Richie skimmed his nose over Eddie’s temple before looking down at the tattoo as well.

“A Bill Denbrough original,” he said before slipping his hand beneath Eddie’s shirt to stroke his fingers over his lower back. “Tell me something else about you.”

Eddie could hardly think through the haze in his mind but he managed to pull something out of his memories as he leaned into Richie, pressing kisses to his jaw.

“I wore a fanny pack when I was a kid,” he admitted.

Eddie couldn’t help but smile when the other man began to laugh.

“I can just imagine it,” Richie said with shaking shoulders, pulling away to look at him. “What did you have in your fanny pack, Eddie Spaghetti?”

“Really? That’s the worst fucking nickname ever. I had a first aid kit, medicine, random stuff like that,” he said, bringing his hand up to Richie’s hair slower this time, savoring the softness of the curls that slipped through his fingers. “My mom was pretty overprotective.”

“Hmm, mine didn’t give a shit about me.”

Eddie stilled, drawing away a little bit to look into Richie’s eyes. The other man blinked in surprise, as if he didn’t quite expect such a confession to spill from his lips. Before he could say anything to distract from the awkward moment, Eddie took Richie’s face in his hands and leaned forward, brushing a soft kiss over his lips. Richie seemed grateful enough for the distraction, dragging him in closer before lying back on the bed, pulling Eddie down with him. They found a perfect rhythm of kissing and touching, occasionally rocking against one another just enough to stoke the building fire between them without completely combusting.

When Eddie finally managed to pull away, sitting up as he trembled  from the intoxicating mix of adrenaline and desire coursing through him, he took the opportunity to admire how thoroughly _wrecked_ Richie Tozier looked lying beneath him. Reaching up, he gingerly touched his fingers to the glasses on Richie’s face and stared at him in question, wondering if it was okay if he took them off. The other man nodded once, taking them out of Eddie’s hands to toss them on the nightstand. He blinked several times once they were gone but Eddie’s attention was already elsewhere.

“What’s the date?” he asked, brushing his thumb over the small set of numbers.

“The day we got signed by our label,” Richie answered him, running his hand up and down Eddie’s thigh over his jeans.

“And this?” Eddie asked, his eyes zeroing in on the nipple piercing again.

Now that he was giving it his full attention, and now that he’d kissed Richie, it definitely turned him on a way that he didn’t expect.

“Lost a bet with Bill,” Richie said.

Eddie couldn’t imagine making any bet that involved actual pain. Curiously and with a little bit of devious intent in mind, he stroked his hand up Richie side until his thumb found the piercing, touching the ring curiously and with just enough pressure to make it shift. He didn’t expect the slight intake of breath from Richie, who was watching Eddie with dark, heated eyes.

“Doesn’t it make you less sensitive?”” Eddie asked, unable to rein in his surprise. “With the scar tissue, I mean.”

Richie shook his head, squeezing Eddie’s hip lightly.

“More,” he said, his low voice and touch sending a shock of heat straight to Eddie’s groin.

Eddie couldn’t resist tracing his nipple with his thumb before flicking at the ring purposefully. Richie shuddered a little beneath him, his fingers tightening over Eddie’s hip.

“Don’t fucking tease.”

“Why not?” Eddie challenged.

Suddenly Richie was sitting up again, his hand in Eddie’s hair and pulling at the locks just enough to tilt his head back. Then his lips were at his ear, his tongue darting out to trace the spot there that made Eddie’s back arch a little bit as he let out a whimper.

“Because I can play dirty too,” Richie whispered in his ear.

Eddie’s only response to that was to move, rocking and grinding his hips just enough to torture them both. Richie’s hands settled on his hips, guiding his movements as their lips met again in a slow, tantalizing kiss. Then Eddie lifted his hand and stroked his fingers through Richie’s hair before giving it a little tug. Richie’s hips surged upwards and, when Eddie did it again, a groan slipped from his mouth as he pulled away.

“Slow, Eds,” he murmured, slowing his movements. “Let’s take it slow.”

Then he was pulling Eddie’s shirt over his head in spite of his own words, tossing it in the same direction as the cardigan before carefully turning them around with a strong arm around Eddie’s waist. Richie slowly laid him back on the bed and Eddie gladly let him settle in the cradle of his hips, holding onto his shoulders the whole time. When Richie pulled away, gazing down at him with something like wonder in his eyes, Eddie felt a little bit embarrassed, coming out of his heated state as he tried to find a way to cover up. But then Richie spoke, unable to keep quite for long.

“Shit, Eddie,” he said, shaking his head as he trailed his fingers up Eddie’s arm. “You are so…”

Richie trailed off as if he couldn’t think of a word.

“Let me guess - cute,” Eddie said with the slightest twitch of his lips.

Richie grinned down at him.

“Damn straight,” he said with a nod but the way he spoke suggested that there was more to it. “But you’re also fucking gorgeous.”

Eddie felt the strong temptation to cover his face with his hands. Instead he settled for a scoff and a roll of his eyes.

“What?” Richie said, frowning a little.

“You don’t have to, you know…” Eddie paused, shrugging his shoulders. “You don’t have to say stuff like that. I’m already here.”

Richie didn’t look very happy with his words.

“You don’t believe me.”

Eddie shrugged again, feeling uncomfortable now as he looked at the ceiling over Richie’s shoulder instead of into his eyes, afraid of seeing pity there. Then Richie was bending down, pressing a hard kiss to his lips before pulling away again.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, skimming his lips over Eddie’s jaw.

“Richie,” Eddie sighed, wishing that he’d leave it alone.

“Lemme talk,” Richie said, pushing up again with his elbow braced by Eddie’s head and some of his solid weight lying against him. “I wanna tell you what I see.”

Eddie didn’t say anything, finally looking at Richie again with a wariness building in his chest.

“Here,” Richie tapped his nose lightly. “Is the cutest damn nose with these amazing little freckles all over it. And your cheeks too. I love how you blush, Eds. Just like that.”

He laughed a little when color rose to Eddie’s cheeks at his words.

“Your lips are straight out of my dreams. All soft and full and pink,” Richie punctuated his words with a quick kiss to his lips. “And your goddamn eyes, rich and warm and so fucking _expressive_. I can see everything in your eyes, baby.”

Eddie shuddered, feeling strangely exposed and comforted all at once.

“Your hair…” Richie said, lifting his hand to stroke his fingers through Eddie’s hair. “I could do this all day. I saw you from that stage with your cute cardigan and your eyes and perfect hair and all I wanted to do was get my hands on you. Just you.”

He was pretty much putty in Richie’s hands at this point. It was definitely working and, much to his surprise, Eddie was starting to believe that Richie meant what he was saying.

“I don’t do this a lot, you know?” Richie said, drawing away a little bit.

“What?” Eddie said.

“This.”

Richie pointed between them.

“What I said on the bus about not kissing and telling, I just talk a lot of shit. It’s how I got my ass beat so many times in middle school,” Richie said.

Eddie let the words sink in, realizing what the other man was trying to tell him.

“All I had to do to get my ass beat in middle school was be small and gay,” he said with a small smile.

“Look at us now,” Richie said.

Eddie huffed out a laugh, running his hand over the small of Richie’s back.

“You still talk a lot of shit and I’m still small and gay,” he said.

Richie grinned down at him.

“Exactly the way it’s supposed to be, baby,” he said.

Then he was kissing Eddie again, his hips doing absolutely sinful things that made Eddie’s toes curl at the friction even through his jeans and boxers.

“Want more,” he said, his words muffled as he dropped his hands to fumble with Richie’s pants.

Richie didn’t urge him to slow down again, instead pulling away to kneel on the bed so that he could do it himself. Eddie was quick to undo his own pants, shimming them down his thighs and kicking them away along with his socks, leaving him in nothing but his boxers as Richie stood to kick the jeans off of his ankles. Eddie pushed up on his knees and drew him in closer, daringly sealing his lips over Richie’s pierced nipple. With a groan of his name, Richie cradled the back of his head but didn’t pull him away. It felt strange, the cool metal contrasting with the warmth of Richie’s skin on his tongue but Eddie kind of liked it. When he closed his teeth around the ring and gave it a little tug, Richie swore loudly and nearly hauled him up for a kiss, bearing him back onto the bed with more strength than before.

“You’re trying to fucking kill me, aren’t you?” Richie said, hitching Eddie’s legs around his waist as he thrusted against him.

“Fuck,” Eddie moaned, tossing his head back onto the bed.

“God you’re beautiful,” Richie said, his voice low and thrilling as he teased his fingers over his stomach.

Before Eddie could choke out anything else, Richie’s hand was slipping into his boxers and wrapping around his hard length. Thrusting upwards into his warm hand, Eddie wound his fingers into the blankets beneath him without any thoughts of germs or filth. All his mind could focus on was Richie. His lips on Eddie’s throat, his scent and touch invading Eddie’s senses, and his fingers on his cock making him shudder with every stroke.

“That’s it,” Richie encouraged softly, touching Eddie like he knew exactly what worked. “Fucking hell, Eds, you’re so hard for me. So good.”

Eddie whimpered low in his throat, moving his hips in time with Richie’s hand. No one had ever talked to him like this and he found that it drove him nearly to the edge. It didn’t stop there. Filthy words poured from Richie’s mouth almost endlessly, spurred on by the noises Eddie made in return.

“You like that, don’t you baby? Like me talking to you?”

“Do you ever stop talking?” Eddie huffed.

Richie answered with a low laugh, tugging at Eddie’s boxers with his other hand until they were nearly halfway down his thighs. Then Eddie felt something warm and wet tracing over the tip of his dick and cursed loudly as Richie gave long, slow licks to every inch of him before taking him into his mouth. It was a losing battle not to thrust up and Richie knew it, holding Eddie’s hips as he bobbed up and down, using his tongue and lips to bring him to the brink. Even with his mouth otherwise occupied, he still didn’t shut up, humming and moaning, especially when Eddie delved his fingers into Richie’s hair and _tugged_.

“Richie… fuck I’m gonna… gonna come Rich-Richie,” Eddie breathed out, squeezing his eyes shut as he combed his fingers through the other man’s dark locks.

Richie only sped up, making Eddie cry out as the tight coil in his lower belly grew hotter and hotter. Then he was coming, Richie’s name a mantra on his lips as waves of pleasure ran through his body. Richie didn’t move until he was finished, withdrawing slowly as if to wring every drop of pleasure from Eddie’s boneless form. Then he was sitting back on his heels with a self-satisfied smirk as Eddie gazed up at him breathlessly.

“You asked if I ever stop talking,” he said with a shrug, fixing Eddie's boxers for him before climbing off the bed. “Thought I’d show you what else I can do with my mouth.”

“Wait,” Eddie said, reaching out towards him. “What about you?”

“I’m taken care of, baby,” Richie said with a wink, grabbing a clean pair of boxers from an open ruffle bag in the corner of the room before disappearing into the bathroom.

Eddie stared after him with wide eyes, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Richie came from going down on him. He heard running water from the bathroom for a couple of minutes before Richie spit loudly and cut it off. As he walked out, Eddie pushed himself up to sit and watched as Richie switched off every lamp but one before crossing  over to the bed and leaning down to give him a long, lingering, satisfied kiss, his tongue stroking over Eddie’s slowly and lazily. Then Richie collapsed onto the bed and pulled Eddie down with him, switching the last lamp off. As they slid beneath the covers, Eddie found himself surrounded by Richie with the other man’s arms snaked around his waist and Eddie’s head on his chest.

“Tell me more about small, gay Eddie with a fanny pack,” Richie said quietly, his voice reverberating through his chest.

Eddie smiled, stroking his fingers over Richie’s stomach.

“That’s pretty much all you need to know. I wore polo shirts a lot and short shorts sometimes,” he said.

“You still have any of those shorts?” Richie asked.

Eddie pinched his side lightly, drawing a laugh out of him.

“Tell me how you met the others,” he said, wanting to hear how exactly the band came together.

Richie began talking, telling this story and that about how he met each of the others and how they became friends, then best friends, then family. He had so many wild stories that Eddie found himself laughing nearly to the point of tears at moments, finding himself drawn more and more to the wonder that was Richie Tozier. He would have felt bad for falling asleep to the sound of his voice but the truth was that Eddie was more relaxed right here in Richie’s arms than he’d been in months.

* * *

When Eddie awoke the next morning, the bed next to him was barely warm and the room was still mostly dark with dawn barely breaking over the horizon. He heard the soft sound of music behind him. Turning over, he blinked the sleep from his eyes and saw Richie sitting by an open window, looking down at the guitar in his hands as he strummed quietly. He was wearing the same jeans from last night but no shirt, sitting on the arm of a chair he’d dragged over to the window. He didn’t seem aware of Eddie’s eyes on him, pushing his hair out of his eyes as he hummed something under his breath before his fingers started plucking at the strings again. The softest traces of sunlight caressed his face, giving him an almost ethereal glow that nearly took Eddie’s breath away. Remembering his words from the night before, Eddie had to wonder how many people had actually seen Richie like this. Somehow this moment seemed more intimate than anything they did last night. When Richie’s eyes lifted, scanning the room as if he was deep in thought, they settled on Eddie and he blinked behind his glasses before a slow smile tugged at his lips.

“Morning,” Richie said, setting his guitar back in the case before nudging it closed.

He pushed to stand, walking back over to the bed. Before he could come too close, Eddie pushed up to sit and stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth,” he said.

Eddie broke a lot of his usual rules the night before, including sleeping in a hotel bed, but kissing someone with morning breath was definitely a no.

“There’s a spare toothbrush in my bathroom that’s got your name on it, if you want, Not even out of the package yet,” Richie offered, looking unbothered.

Eddie nodded, giving him a grateful smile before slipping out of bed. He relieved himself and splashed some cold water on his face before brushing his teeth, feeling much better by the time he stepped out and found Richie sitting on the bed.

“Sorry if I woke you,” Richie said as he tugged Eddie to stand between his splayed legs, tilting his head back to look up at him. “We all agreed to an early start this morning.”

All at once, Eddie’s sleepy bliss disappeared and his heart sank.

“Right,” he said, nodding once. “When do you leave?”

“Not for an hour or so. I just couldn’t sleep,” Richie said, frowning as if he could sense Eddie’s drop in mood.

Instead of letting the knowledge that this was just a one-time thing chase him away, Eddie decided to push Richie back onto the bed, climbing on to lie next to him and kiss him softly. It could have been much worse. They could have had a lot less time.

“What do you want to do?” Richie asked.

“This,” Eddie said, pressing his hand over Richie’s heart. “Just this.”

And they did, kissing and talking until the sun filled the room and Richie received several texts from the others saying that they were ready to go. There was an air of reluctance around them as they dressed and Richie packed up. Eddie watched him zip the duffle bag and lock up the guitar case as he laced his shoes before standing, knowing that this was it. Richie kissed him once before picking up his bags, once before opening the door, and for the entire elevator ride down.

As shitty as this felt, Eddie was somewhat glad to know that he wasn’t the only one who was having a hard time letting go. The rest of the band and Ben were already waiting in the lobby. They all looked equally tired but each of them, even Ben, looked satisfied. Beverly was leaning into his side with a small smile on her face as they approached, her head on his shoulder. Eddie was happy for his friend, knowing that this was literally a dream come true for him.

“I told Ben that we’d drive you to your car,” Beverly said.

“Thanks Beverly,” Eddie said, giving her a smile.

Richie tossed his arm over Eddie’s shoulders as they walked out to the bus. The trip back to the area of the bar was mostly quiet, with a little bit of conversation and teasing traded back and forth betore the bus came to a stop right where they were still thankfully parked. Eddie hated the heavy feeling in his stomach as he walked down the steps and his feet hit hard ground. Richie was right behind him, pulling him into his arms as soon as Eddie turned around to face him. They didn’t kiss at first, just holding one another until Richie turned his head and Eddie met him halfway, kissing gently one last time before pulling away.

“Don’t be a stranger, Eds,” Richie said, reaching up to ruffle his hair.

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie said half-heartedly.

Richie grinned at him, stepping back towards the bus. They had been so wrapped up in one another that Eddie didn’t even notice Ben say goodbye to Beverly but they were separated too.

“Nice to meet you,” Eddie called to the other band members, all of whom waved back in return.

Richie was the last to get back on the bus, winking at Eddie before he did. Then they were gone, pulling away as Eddie and Ben got in the car, both grappling with the fact that the entire night suddenly felt like a very vivid dream.

“That was amazing,” Ben sighed.

Eddie couldn’t help but agree, pulling his phone out and unlocking it to see the picture Richie had taken of the two of them lying on the hotel bed that morning before punching his number into Eddie’s contact list. The picture was a little bit blurry but still good, with Eddie hiding his smile in Richie’s shoulder as the other man grinned widely at the camera.

“Yeah, it was,” he said, locking the phone and dropping it into his lap as Ben pulled out of the parking spot.

* * *

It would be another year and a half before Eddie saw Richie Tozier again.

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to hear what you think!
> 
> There will probably be another part to this fic but that probably may well be pushed to a definitely depending on the kind of feedback I get to this. I already have a few aspects of it planned out and would love to write and post it but only if I have the feeling that people actually like the fic.


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